no patron saint of silent restraint
by k-booey
Summary: "Every night before I put her to bed I tell her how loved she is- by me, by Elijah. Even Marcel. But most of all I tell her how much her parents love her. How she's her mother's girl and her father's world. I tell her all about New Orleans and how one day it will be her home and we'll all live together, happily ever after." Written for the OriginalsBlogNetwork. Ensemble-y piece.
1. I

**A/N: New account, old author! I used to be OKBooey31 so maybe some of you know me from those days :) It's been a while since I published anything for various reasons- writer's block, life, more writer's block, interest in RP, etc. So, yeah. Anyways, this was written for The Originals Blog Network over on tumblr for our Get to Know Me Meme. This little two-shot serves as one of my contributions for Day Seven: Season 2 Wishes. **

**Potentially set around midseason of S2.**

**I know it sucks and everyone's OOC... like I said it's been a while since I've found myself able to write FF and such but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!**

* * *

><p><strong>Just because we're beasts of blame by nature<strong>

**Doesn't mean that you should carry it again**

**It's a question of needs and not rosary beads in the end**

**{ Weights & Measures ~ Dry the River }**

He leaves them standing in uncomfortable silence. Klaus' tantrums aren't uncommon but one of this magnitude hasn't occurred in months. Swallowing thickly and breathing for perhaps the first time since Klaus stormed out of the courtyard, Hayley looks at Elijah.

The Original sighs and meets her gaze. "Are you alright?"

She nods, trying to process his words over the echo of Klaus' desperate scream. The hollow echo of Elijah's footsteps join the commotion clouding her mind, then she sees him lift a hand just before his knuckles brush across her cheek.

"Stop," she says, turning away from his touch.

"Clearly, you're not alright."

"I haven't been alright in months," she tells him, refusing to meet the Originals gaze. I'm a vampire when I should have never been one in the first place. None of it is 'alright'."

"I know. And I can't begin to express how sorry I am that you were so cruelly stripped of your life."

"That's not the point, Elijah. None of this is okay, Elijah. None of _us_ are okay! Did you not just hear that? Hear _him_?" He only stares, gawks as if her words trouble him. And Hayley guesses they do. They should trouble her; her thoughts are so jumbled and confused and shocked. But, at the same time, it all makes sense. She understands. "Of course you didn't," she scoffs.

"It was merely yet another of his tantrums, Hayley. Nothing more and nothing less. Surely you know that by now."

"You make me sick," she says with a shake of her head, brunette locks rustling over her shoulders. "This entire family makes me sick with the way you harp on and on about 'always and forever' and 'family above all' and the _moment _someone may need some goddamn comfort or show some kind of emotion they don't usually show on a good day, it's just a tantrum and something you don't need to worry about."

"I beg your pardon but after a thousand years I believe I know my brother far better than to fall prey to his every whim. If I were to do so then I wouldn't be able to focus my attention on other, relevant matters. Like yo-"

"Like me?" Hayley interrupts, finishing his sentence for him knowing the Original hates both her presumptuous attitude and the lack of restraint on her part to allow him to finish his speaking his part. She crosses her arms over her chest when he doesn't respond, stands up to her full height and stares him down. "I am _not_ your project, Elijah, you can't fix me. I can't **be** fixed. You've done everything you can to help me and I do appreciate this but it changes _nothing_. I'm a hybrid now. I shouldn't have been but I am. I know the basics but as far as learning to cope and to accept this new reality? You cannot do that for me. I have to do it on my own." She pauses, willing the tear threatening to tumble down her cheek not to fall, not in front of him. "You wanna fix something? Fine." She looks away from him out the gate Klaus strode through moments earlier. "But I'm not the one who needs your help right now."

Hayley doesn't give a chance to answer before she turns on her heel, making her way up the staircase and towards her room.

"What're you doing here?" she hisses, eyes widening as she looks around the bar frantically though she'd like to think it was a casual scan of her patrons.

"Elijah called me," Marcel explains, hands splayed on the worn cherry grains of the bar top. "Asked me to help him find Klaus. Something or other about softening him up before getting him home." He shrugs. "Said he, Hayley, and Klaus had gotten into some kind of disagreement and Klaus pulled a Klaus, you know the drill."

"That would explain the bottle of whiskey he carried out of here when he left about thirty minutes ago." Cami looks up at her… Marcel. "I asked him- told him, really, that if he wanted to talk even though he's still playing the 'we can't be friends' card that he knows where to find me."

"He looked that good, eh?"

The blonde put her rag down and turned to grab a full bottle of whatever happened to be closest. She hands it to Marcel. "Let's just say I don't think he's stopping at one. Or two for that matter but maybe that will loosen his lips a little. Check the cemetery." She pauses, her grip on the neck of the bottle tightening. "He can't keep it locked away like this forever, Marcel."

The vampire takes the bottle from her outstretched hand. "I know."

He finds him camped out in Lafayette Cemetery clutching a half-empty bottle of whiskey.

He doesn't acknowledge the other man as he sits on the cold concrete, leaned back against the mausoleum facing the grave only he knows is quite empty. It's all for show, he reminds himself on the rare occasions he finds himself venturing here to drown his sorrows-

- sorrows he's, allegedly, not allowed to express because he's not supposed to care.

(If he only had a quid for every damn time he'd heard that phrase.)

His protege clears his throat and Klaus still doesn't manage to turn his head. "Cami said I'd find you here although she was under the impression you were a little more than half a bottle deep."

There's nothing to say so Klaus only brings the glass rim to his lips and tosses it back, wiping his mouth on his sleeve only after the contents have been drained.

"I guess it's a good thing I come bearing gifts," Marcel says as he invites himself to sit, sliding down against the aged brick until he's side by side with the hybrid.

Klaus hears him pop the cap off, eyes remaining steadfast on the tombstone, the empty yet foreboding words etched across it's bleak surface- _he doesn't care, he's not supposed to care, he __**can't**_ _care; because when has his grief been important_.

But he does care. He can't not care. Not about this.

"This is the second bloody time I've been through this," he mutters to no one in particular, momentarily forgetting Marcel's presence hanging at his side. His protege says nothing and Klaus reaches for the new bottle hanging from Marcel's hand, taking a healthy swig.

It's eerily similar- losing Marcel and losing Hope, both his children by some strange definition and twist of fate. Only this time, he isn't running through the streets and fleeing with his tail between his legs. He can't afford to do so; the circumstances are much more dire this go around. Running meant failing- his city, his brother, his son, Hayley, Rebekah, _Hope_. Much more than one person should carry and yet here he was, all by his lonesome whilst Elijah fawned over the wolf-girl, Marcel remaining unknowingly oblivious to reality.

"Did she have a name?" Marcel finally asks, voice filling the void between them

The hybrid tenses. Then he swallows and forces himself to breathe.

"Hope," he whispers into the silence, looking to the ground so as to hide the tears that have suddenly begun to burn his eyes. "Her name is Hope."

And for once he doesn't bother with the past tenses, the would have or could have beens. There's no need to, not here in this cemetery with nothing but the words _Baby Mikaelson_ staring him in the face. For all any unfriendly ears who could be listening in know, it's simply the wishful thinking of a grieving father- one who allegedly never wanted the child in the first place. And oh how he wishes it was that simple once more; that he didn't care, didn't miss someone who became such an integral part of his life in such a short span of time so deeply. It's unfair and he hates it.

Beside him, Marcel nods and wishes there's something more he can say but now's not the time. He may have consented to the compulsion but he can't help feel the sting that he's been in the dark this long for whatever reason; forced out of his home based on a lie.

Still, he pushes the feeling down and away. What's important now is his friend, he reminds himself. Now that he knows, watching Klaus work to stay afloat in the grief, the guilt and stress of their situation is much harder than he'd like to admit and suddenly telling the hybrid that he's now privy to the truth rather than the lie that's spread through the Quarter like wildfire doesn't feel appropriate.

Whether he spills the beans or not, he just needs to get the hybrid home, back to his brother.

Marcel reaches out to clasp Klaus on the shoulder. "You hold on to that," he tells him. "You hold on and don't let go. It's different than what happened with me. You're gonna see her again." He pauses, ducking his head in hopes the hybrid sees him out of his peripheral vision and understands. The vampire gives it a moment before shaking the Original's shoulder affectionately. "Let's get you home while you can still stand on your own two feet, man."

He tries not to be surprised when Klaus doesn't put up more resistance.

They walk into the compound's courtyard together- Klaus seemingly in a daze, Marcel looking around and envisioning his old home the way it was the last time he was here now that he remembers everything correctly. Strangely, he thinks he sees himself sitting on the blood-soaked ground with his back pressed against the fountain and a newborn- his sister by some strange twist of fate- cradled in his arms.

Movement from the corner brings him back to the present and away from the ghosts of the past. He pauses in his tracks as Elijah emerges though Klaus continues on his not so merry way towards the lonely and forbidden west wing of his palace.

"Niklaus."

Elijah's voice rings clear through the courtyard yet it falls on deaf ears. The eldest Original and former King of New Orleans exchange glances.

"Niklaus."

The only response remains hollow footfalls, now ready to begin their ascent up wooden stairs and the next thing Marcel knows is that Elijah's moved.

He intercepts Klaus' path and the vampire watching all this unfold doesn't have to be facing the hybrid to see the scowl settling on his features.

But before he can say anything or lash out in any way, Elijah takes him by the shoulders. "I'm sorry, brother," he says before pulling Klaus into this embrace.

The hybrid's posture goes completely rigid, tension flooding through his back and shoulders. It even looks as if he's going to fight Elijah's hold yet the eldest Originals holds steadfast, a hand placed at the nape of his neck, the other resting over the small of his back.

"I'm sorry," he repeats and it serves as a catalyst; Klaus begins to relax into the solace and comfort extended by Elijah's arms. It's a rare sight to say the least and Marcel feels as if he's intruding. So he turns just as the hybrid reaches around Elijah's back and clings as if his brother is his only lifeline.

Marcel hears the snap just as he crosses the threshold of the Abattoir's main gate.

(He likes to think he would have turned back had he not known what was being set into motion.)


	2. II

**A/N: Part 2 of 2. I also apologize for any typos you may stumble upon in either chapter. This is unfortunately unbeta-ed so I could get it out in time... I'm cutting it pretty close as it is lol. I hope it brings you as many bittersweet feels as it brought me whilst writing it. Enjoy!**

* * *

><p><strong>Just because we're beasts of blame by nature<strong>

**Doesn't mean that you should carry it again**

**It's a question of needs and not rosary beads in the end**

**{ Weights & Measures ~ Dry the River }**

He wakes with a gasp and frantically takes in his cramped surroundings, head reeling as he prepares with muscles tensed and posture rigid; he realizes too late that his brother's embraced was more of a ploy than an extension of comfort.

"It's about time."

His head whirls and he feels himself relaxing as he spots Hayley sitting not far from himself, legs tucked beneath her.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" he all but snarls.

"Does it look like I have any idea?"

"When I get my hands on Elija-"

The she-wolf rolls her eyes and tunes out his grumbling and threats, looking around the back seat of this... car for something, anything that may give them a clue as to what the hell is going on for what had to be the thousandth time since she woke up opposite a dozing Original hybrid. The windows are tinted far too darkly for even her enhanced sight to peer out and make sense of their surroundings. She's, for once, about to agree with Klaus when the car comes to a stop.

The hybrid's exchange glances as the opening and shutting of the front door sounds, footsteps venture towards the back of the car and open the trunk. There's a shuffling about before the trunk is finally shut, more footsteps crunching gravel, and then one of the backdoors open.

"Mister Mikaelson, Miss Marshall," the driver greets, extending a hand to help Hayley out of the town car. Klaus follows behind her, taking the coat offered by the compelled man to guard against the winter chill on the late November air. The driver says nothing else, shuts the door of the car, climbs back behind the wheel and drives off, leaving Hayley and Klaus standing on the curb.

Klaus tries to make sense of where they are- there's no snow on the ground; it's in the air, he can feel and smell the heavy moisture. The sun's hidden behind clouds and grey leaves litter the sidewalk and square, front lawns filled with dull, dead grass.

Amidst the monotony of the neighborhood they've been tossed into, one thing catches the Original's eye: white fences boarding cookie-cutter yards.

"_Perhaps we'll get a white fence. I think that would be lovely."_

Granted it's only a hunch but Klaus feels his heart begin to race, pounding in anticipation as he looks around, trying to decide what direction to walk in. He ends up taking a chance, turning to his right and begins striding down the sidewalk, hands shoved in his pockets.

"This way, little wolf."

"How do you know?" she asks, jogging to catch up.

He shrugs. "I don't."

Hayley goes along regardless.

Before long they come to a playground.

Despite the crisp air and puffy grey clouds, it's teeming with life. Shrill laughter fills the air as children run back and forth over pale wood chips and slip down a faded yellow slide clad in their puffy winter coats and mittens, some sporting toboggans on their heads. Parents sit around, chatting to one another on wired green benches and picnic tables or standing off to the side.

Klaus and Hayley stand at the chain link fence and watch. An inexplicable sadness sets over the Original's heart. He takes a deep breath, looks down at the she-wolf and back up at the scene. His mouth opens, prepared to tell her they need to move on- to where, he doesn't know- when he sees them.

There, in a quiet back corner by a swing set clearly made for younger children, stands a younger-looking girl. The breeze plays about with her pin-straight blonde hair as she leans down, smiling widely at the wide-eyed, giggling infant in the swing.

His heart jumps into his throat and it's like he can't breath; he's paralyzed. He can only stand there and watch, mesmerized. His sister and daughter are mere feet away from him and Klaus can only find himself hoping this isn't some cruel dream, that he'd going to open his eyes the next time he blinks and find himself back in the compound surrounded by his brother's embrace.

Someone grabs his hand and the hybrid looks down, exchanging shocked glances with Hayley before they return to watching as Rebekah stops the swing and pulls the baby from its confines and then, as she turns and catches sight of them standing at the fence, it's as if time stands still.

The blonde smiles at both of them, looks away and says something to Hope, and then raises a little hand and waves it towards them.

The she-wolf at his side squeezes his hand harder and Klaus remembers to breathe as the smallest yet genuine, disbelieving smile pulls at his lips.

They don't need any further prompting to take steps forward, venturing into the playground until they're standing face to face with their daughter.

He expects it to be some tearful reunion and there are tears, certainly- he can't keep his own eyes from misting over- but over all, it's not. Rebekah holds Hope on her hip and watches the two hybrids say hi to their daughter for the first time since her first few hours of life. Hayley leans down so she's in the baby's line of sight and takes the little girls' hand in her own, uttering a gentle and sweet 'Hi' as Klaus watches, unable to keep a small smile off his face as his heart swells.

After allowing them a moment, Rebekah finally speaks. "I've some errands I need to take care of if the two of you wouldn't mind babysitting for a couple hours," she says with a smile.

They end up staying for more than a couple hours, spending time with their daughter- tickling her, feeding her, rolling around on the floor with her.

It's nice, Klaus thinks, not having to worry about anything but the little girl with bright blue eyes and light brown fluff adorning her head, his dimples and hayley's lips. For the most part he can ignore the growing dread that keeps threatening to creep its way into his mind, intent on reminding him this moment of normalcy, of the way things _should_ have been and be is fleeting.

He feeds Hope her evening bottle, cradling her still tiny body close to his chest where he wishes he could keep her forever. A small smile fixes itself on his face as he watches her eyes continuously roll back in her head before popping open, the suckling on the bottle's nipple slowing to a stop as she briefly dozes off and wakes up only to repeat the cycle. Rebekah's cleaning up the remnants of dinner whilst Hayley sits, leaning into his side as she peers over at their little girl, just as intent as he is in committing every miniscule detail down to the shadows cast onto her cheeks by soft eyelashes to memory.

Even as he puts the bottle to the side, deciding she's slipped completely into sleep, Klaus doesn't want to hand her over to Hayley for one last time, one last hug and kiss before he has to pull them away and back into reality where they've to pretend this little girl is gone for good.

Taking one last look, Klaus clenches his eyes shut and leans down to place a kiss onto Hope's forehead, then her cheek, lingering for a moment before pulling away and looking at Hayley so he can pass her to the she-wolf. Tears are already in Hayley's eyes and when the infant's securely in her mother's arms, the hybrid stands and walks out of the room to give them a moment.

In fact, he walks out of the house completely and sits on the front steps. While the air nips at exposed skin and completely the picture of pure loneliness and heartbreak, it offers more solace than he would have thought; allowing him to compose himself, accept the difficulty of once more passing his daughter off with know idea as to the next time he'll see her.

The front door creaks as someone pushes it open and Klaus wipes a cautionary hand over his face. Though he knows Hayley most likely wouldn't think of him any differently had she stumbled upon him with a few tears trailing down his cheeks, he takes greater comfort when Rebekah sits at his side.

"It's good to see you, Nik," she says, breaking the silence and looking over at him with a shy smile yet bright.

He returns it, looking down at her. "You look well, Bekah… _happy_."

"I am," Rebekah concedes with a nod. "It gets a little lonely sometimes; there's only so much conversation consisting of babbles and gurgling one can take before you're craving more age appropriate company. That bloody park is my saving grace some days."

The hybrid chuckles. "I can only imagine."

"But I wouldn't change it for the world."

He doesn't know how to respond so he only nods, leaving them in companionable silence.

"She's happy," Rebekah tells him. "I'd be damned if she were anything but." A bittersweet smile crosses Klaus' face. "That little girl deserves the world and more."

"I know. I'd give it to her on a silver platter if I could."

(He doesn't mention how he can't even provide a safe home for her.)

"Every night before I put her to bed I tell her how loved she is- by me, by Elijah. Even Marcel. But most of all I tell her how much her parents love her. How she's her mother's girl and her father's world. I tell her all about New Orleans and how one day it will be her home and we'll all live together, happily ever after. And I always make sure to tell her how her parents are the bravest people I know.

"I sorely underestimated what raising a child would be but, Nik, if there's one thing I think I'm doing right, it's making sure she knows how hard you're fighting for her." Rebekah places her hand over his and squeezes. "She's lucky to have you as her father, Nik," she tells him. "Just know that."

Klaus looks towards the walkway, averting his gaze in hopes he can keep more tears from falling and instead of saying something else, he places a gentle hand over Rebekah's. Fortunately he's saved from anything else as the door creaks again.

They look over their shoulders to find Hayley standing behind them and Klaus knows it's time; they need to go before they're tempted to stay any longer, blissfully ignoring all responsibilities back in New Orleans and leaving them for Elijah to tend to. He and Rebekah stand, Klaus situated off to the side as Rebekah and Hayley say their goodbyes with a tearful hug and an uttered 'thank you'. Then Hayley reluctantly let's his sister go and it's his turn.

He gazes at his sister before wrapping his arms around her in a brief hug- there's no need to make this harder than it needs to be. "Keep her safe," is all he says.

"With my life," Rebekah returns, hugging him tightly before letting him go.

He all but jogs down the stairs, ushering Hayley forward with a hand hovering just above the small of her back. And by the time they're safely tucked back into the town car they found waiting on the same corner they were dropped at, the Original still isn't as composed as he'd like to be. He leans his head against the window, eyes clenched tightly shut as the world flies past. However this time Hayley sits next to rather than across from him.

As a subtle reminder he isn't alone in this- the fight they're going back to, the difficulty of not being able to raise their daughter- she grabs his hand and squeezes, lacing their fingers together.


End file.
